Regrets
by rhapsodybree
Summary: Ron wondered if his regrets about the one that got away would ever go away. Hermione/Snape.


Disclaimer: I own nothing, except my own creations.

* * *

"Uh huh. Mm. Sure."

Watching his daughter move off, Ronald Weasley had no idea what he had just agreed to. _Never mind, _he thought. _If there was a problem, her mother could deal with it when he dropped her home later. _

He stepped into the room that was filled to the brim with Weasleys and other friends, all here to celebrate his father's birthday. Looking around aimlessly, his eyes fell on the man seated in the corner of the room, away from the crowds.

He couldn't disguise the revulsion he felt at the sight of his school friend's husband. It was still a source of constant amazement that Hermione Granger had become Hermione Snape.

And had his children.

One of those very children was actually with his old Potions Professor now. He didn't know what made him look closer, but he did.

The little girl (Lisbette?) with her jet black hair, was standing at the side of the chair. Her hands were braced on the arm and as he continued to watch, he noticed that she couldn't stay still. She would bounce on her feet, tug at the couch or play with the material at the end of her father's coat.

Snape didn't seem the slightest bit bothered.

_Well, _Ron amended to himself. He didn't exactly look thrilled, but his complete and utter attention was on his daughter, and he was listening to every word she said.

He even appeared to have a word or two to say himself.

Bumped suddenly in the shoulder, Ron shoved his older brother along before sneaking one last peek at his old teacher. He looked back in time to see the little girl peck him on the cheek and then dash off into the crowd. The old bat didn't even smile.

Honestly, he didn't know what Hermione saw in him.

Moving off, he headed outside. The first sound to assault his senses was the very person on his mind. Hermione's laugh rang loud and clear over the hubbub.

He turned to face her and felt the same selfish desire he did each time he saw her: it should have been him. Looking at the baby boy she held so easily on her hip, he was already mentally substituting brown locks for red.

_Now _that _would be a picture._

Turning his attention away, it wasn't long before this problem disappeared from his mind as he moved around.

It all came back with a rush when he stood at the front of the room at speech time. He was perturbed to discover Hermione now standing with her other daughter in front of her. She was laughing at something as she rested her hands on the shoulders of... Helena, he wanted to say?

This startled him, and he realised that he had managed to misplace a daughter of his own. Looking around, he found her in the corner near the drinks table. Extending a hand, he was gratified when her face split in a grin and she raced toward him.

He felt cocky standing there, imitating Hermione's pose, though she wasn't paying one iota of attention to him, his twin brothers providing all the entertainment necessary.

He sighed.

* * *

As the party began to draw to a close, Ron found himself copying the Snapes once again.

With his daughter sound asleep on the couch, he was slightly baffled as to what he was going to do.

"They look so angelic asleep, don't they," he heard a voice above him say.

Looking up, he saw Hermione looking down at his child. "Yes," was all he could manage.

Drawing inspiration from how Hermione held her sleeping son, he leaned in and drew Mavis into his arms, her arms and legs naturally wrapping around his upper body.

Rising, he found himself exchanging a mutual expression with his one-time best friend. It wasn't the love and lust he wanted, but rather a shared understanding as parents.

He sighed inwardly. It wasn't what he wanted, but it looked like it was all he was going to get.

"Hermione?"

He turned too, and rolled his eyes. _Of course Snape had to beat him._ He carried not one, but two children in his arms, sleeping heads a shoulder apiece.

"Ready?"

"Ready." Ron saw the expression on Hermione's face now. She'd gone all soft and their gaze seemed to be holding across the room. He felt like an intruder.

He still managed a smile when she turned to him and made her farewells. Snape just looked at him and then, after a prod from Hermione, nodded his head. "Weasley."

He managed about the same. "Snape."

Dropping Mavis off at Crystal's, he headed home with a yawn. Being a father was tough work. He was always exhausted at the end of every other weekend he had Mavis.

Thinking of Hermione, he snorted. _He _probably did nothing, and expected her to wait on him hand and foot and do it all herself.

But even to his own ears, it sounded pathetic.

He had a sudden mental image of Hermione and Snape (_her husband_, his mind spat) working together to put their children down before retreating to bed, together.

He pounded his pillow. Damn the man. It appeared that Severus Snape could do no wrong.

* * *

_Finito.**  
**_


End file.
